


let it bleed

by picht



Series: serial killer marcus verse [1]
Category: Last Podcast on The Left (Podcast) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Bad Decisions, Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Facials, First Kiss, First Time, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Horror, M/M, Minor Character Death, TRAVIS MORNINGSTAR DO NOT INTERACT, Unrealistic Sex, farmer marcus, investigative journalist ben kissel, serial killer marcus parks, this is silly and stupid and cringe. tumblr is going to recancel me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:48:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28625988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/picht/pseuds/picht
Summary: the most that i can do for you is keep on lyingi'm tired of lying, i think i'd rather sin--Ben maybe should have knocked.Ben maybe should haveknocked, but it’s been a shitty fucking night spent at the only decent bar in this terrible fucking West Texas town, desperately going over the evidence he’s been steadily compiling for the past few months, realizing that he has nothing of worth to give to the sheriff’s department in the morning, downing Bud Lite after Bud Lite and thinking about how they’re going to realize he’s been of no help and send him back to New York, and he won’t even get the chance to tell Marcus--
Relationships: Ben Kissel/Marcus Parks
Series: serial killer marcus verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2097696
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	let it bleed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sourcheeks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourcheeks/gifts).



> ah hell.
> 
> yeah i'm here with my first fic in 6 months. yeah it's... last podcast on the left rpf. what is life but suffering? every day i believe i have finally left my terrible rpf past behind, and then i get into a new real person fandom and my horrible enabling friends drag me by my ear back down to rpf hell.
> 
> this is cringe as shit and the content matter is like .... "dark" and "problematic" in a way that i normally wouldn't write or publish but this is just par for the course for this fandom as far as i can tell, which makes sense considering it's a horror/true crime podcast and these dudes are the weirdest edgiest bitches alive. dedicating this to mikey cuz parker doesn't have an ao3 account and this would not exist without either of them. this is also heavily inspired by Those pictures of marcus. You Know The Ones (but if you don't know the ones, i mean the ones from [this photoshoot](https://i0.wp.com/brightestyoungthings.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/Marcus.jpg?fit=759%2C427&quality=100&ssl=1))
> 
> full list of content warnings as follows:  
> \--homophobic language/mentions of homophobic hate crimes  
> \--murder. sdlkgjdflkgj.  
> \--some mention/description of a murder scene/dead bodies. i don't think it's detailed enough to warrant adding the "major depictions of violence" warning but like. ben does walk in on marcus having just killed a dude with a butcher knife.  
> \--drunk characters/alcohol? ben's not really drunk anymore when they have sex but in the bits leading up to it he is  
> \--overall exclusively bad decisions and an extremely unrealistic reaction to discovering the guy you like is 1) the serial killer you've been trying to catch, and 2) literally standing over a bloody dead body that he's just killed. none of this is based in reality. marcus parks isn't actually a serial killer. probably.

Ben maybe should have knocked.

Ben maybe should have _knocked_ , but it’s been a shitty fucking night spent at the only decent bar in this terrible fucking West Texas town, desperately going over the evidence he’s been steadily compiling for the past few months, realizing that he has nothing of worth to give to the sheriff’s department in the morning, downing Bud Lite after Bud Lite and thinking about how they’re going to realize he’s been of no help and send him back to New York, and he won’t even get the chance to tell Marcus-- 

“ _Where’s Parks?_ ” Tommy Daniels had heckled him from down the bar, a few too many shots of whiskey deep to keep his homophobic mouth shut. _“You fuck him too hard last night?_ ” It wouldn’t normally be this bad, but Marcus hadn’t come out tonight--they’re all scared of Marcus for some reason, though they won’t admit it--so all the backwoods freaks who normally stay back and whisper behind raised hands are emboldened to give Ben hell. At least Atkins isn’t out tonight; last time he’d caught Ben at the bar without Marcus, punches had been thrown. “ _He too scared to come around after hearing ‘bout the last time? Afraid he’ll find himself in a situation he can’t suck dick to get out of?”_

 _“Will you just shut the hell up?_ ” Ben had said, then downed the rest of his drink, grabbed his notepad, and stumbled out of the bar before a real altercation could follow. Fuck them--he’d be gone soon and wouldn’t have to deal with them any longer, and back in the city he could get in bar fights with assholes in peace, without having to worry about it getting back to the department that had hired him to help catch a fucking serial killer.

He’d be gone soon, and Marcus would still be here, and-- _fuck_ , Marcus. Not drunk, really, but maybe buzzed enough to make a couple bad decisions, he had called an uber and instead of giving the address of the hotel he’d been staying at, he’d given the address to Marcus’s little farmhouse a few miles out of town. The ten minute drive had been long enough for him to second guess himself, but he really, _really_ had had nothing to show for his meeting the next day, even after _months_ of doing his job, and all he could see happening was getting kicked off the case and being back in New York by Tuesday--he’d _needed_ to see Marcus, just to, just to-- _see_ him.

They had arrived and Ben had stumbled quickly out of the car, taking the stone path up to the house in twos, and he should have _knocked_ , but the door had been open, just a bit, and he hadn’t even thought about pushing it wide and crossing the threshold, thoughts only on Marcus, on seeing Marcus, on telling Marcus the truth about his feelings, on--

Marcus, in the foyer, standing over the dead body of Atkins atop heavy duty sheets of plastic, blood spattered up and down his coveralls.

Ben should have fucking knocked.

For several long moments there is a thick silence. You could slice the tension, Ben thinks distantly, with a knife, just like, hah, the one in… Marcus’s hand…

“Ben!” Marcus exclaims, and the large butcher’s knife clatters to the plastic covered floor. “What are you doing here?” The sound of it finally breaks Ben out of his shock, and as a whole load of information knits itself together in his reporter brain, Marcus seems to go through all stages of grief, face cartwheeling through expressions till it lands on the one he normally reserves for freaking out the townspeople to impress Ben. “We were just finishing our game of hide and seek!” He’s never used that face on Ben before. It absolutely should not be hot.

Ben is terrified, but he fights off the fear and bizarre, drunken arousal in waves, sobering quickly as he braces himself back against the now closed door. “Wh-what are you doing, Marcus?” He asks. He feels like he sounds unreasonably calm given the circumstances. Maybe he’s still in shock.

Marcus doesn’t respond initially; just drops Chris Atkins to the ground with a _thud_ and kicks the bloody knife behind him. Ben’s eyes follow the body to the ground, taking in the scene--the blood, spread across the plastic sheets, pooled in places, seeping slowly out of whatever wounds Marcus had inflicted upon Atkins, thankfully somewhat hidden from the shredded fabric of his bloody clothes. There’s blood on Marcus, too; spattered across the same blood stained coveralls he usually wears to… butcher pigs… _Jesus fucking Christ_.

Despite all of this, once he’s overcome the initial wave of fear, Ben doesn’t even really feel very scared. Maybe it’s just adrenaline, or maybe it’s the feeling of relief he gets from finally solving the case (even under less than stellar circumstances), or maybe it's the fact that Atkins was a piece of shit who verbally abused his wife and harassed every gay person and person of color out of town, but Ben mostly feels… understanding for Marcus, and a weird sense of acceptance.

 _Maybe it's because you think he's hot in those coveralls, covered in the blood of a man who tried to beat the shit out of you for being gay,_ some terrible part of his brain whispers, and he ignores it even as the sight of Marcus taking a few steps towards him ignites him with a terrible little thrill--not of fear, but of arousal.

"Well, you see," Marcus starts. He doesn't come any closer than those first few steps, regarding Ben like he's a spooked wild animal, but Ben's not sure he'd mind even if Marcus _did._ "He had it coming, don't you think? Someone had to teach him he couldn't get away with being such a pig forever. Plus, he was awfully mean to you. I don't like it when people are mean to the people I like." _He likes you,_ a giddy little part of Ben's brain supplies. He tells it to shut up.

"Did you… Have you been killing all those people, Marcus? Has it been you this whole time?" He knows the answer, of course. But he needs to hear it from Marcus.

"Gosh," Marcus says, in a put upon southern accent. "Yeah, I suppose it has been me. But they all deserved it, I promise! Every one of 'em. Abusive, shitty pigs who deserved everything they got." Ben is aware of this, of course; every victim of the killer's--of _Marcus's_ \--had had a history of some form of highly abusive behavior. Half of them were wifebeaters, the other half predators. Hell, all of them had been violent racists. If you'd asked Ben off the books, he'd have said just what Marcus said: they'd deserved it.

But it's not Ben's job to decide that. It's Ben's job to put his investigative reporting skills towards catching a killer before they inevitably spiral into indiscriminate slaughter. A killer that's been by his side this whole time, worming his way into Ben's good graces, into his _heart_. Ben's not even really concerned with the fact that Marcus is the prolific killer he's been chasing for months, at this point--it all honestly makes sense when he gets down to it. Mostly, he wants to know why Marcus has been meeting him for drinks multiple times a week since they first made acquaintances.

"Why have you been… spending so much time with me? When you knew I was looking for you?"

"Well, at first I guess it was just to keep an eye on things. But then I realized…" Marcus has been slowly approaching during this conversation, boots barely making noise on the plastic sheets. Ben has _noticed_ , sure, but not thought much of it; even now, he can't really fathom the thought of feeling unsafe around Marcus. Marcus is close now, sure, but Marcus is this close to him all the time. If he ignores the blood and the dead body, it's almost like a normal evening at Marcus's place. "...I'm kind of sweet on you, Darlin'," Marcus finishes. A thrill goes through Ben at this, and he has just long enough for the poorly timed relief that Marcus likes him back before he notices the prick of a knife, poised tip first against the skin of his gut.

"Marcus, I--" Ben breathes in sharply, then feels the knife press harder, so he stops breathing entirely.

"You're not gonna tell on me, are you, Ben? I’d hate to have to hurt you, especially because I really do like you a whole lot, and I kinda suspect you might like me too…” Marcus smiles, sweet and soft, and lays the hand not holding the knife gently upon the side of Ben’s neck, thumb stroking just under Ben’s jaw. Ben breathes out, and thinks really hard about how he’s going to get out of this.

“I--I do like you, Marcus, that’s, uh, why I came by tonight. I, um,” he gulps at thee look of grace and patience on Marcus’s face mixed with the feeling of Marcus wordlessly pressing his hips into Ben’s, so Ben can feel where he is, apparently, hard. “I was gonna tell you, because I, uh, didn’t really have any breakthroughs on the case and I thought they’d send me home tomorrow, and I, um, didn’t want to leave without confessing, I guess.”

“Mm,” Marcus purrs, smiling up at Ben. He rolls his hips into Ben’s, gently at first, then harder. Presses his face to the side of Ben’s neck not being held, breathing the words into Ben’s skin. The knife is still there, pressed against Ben’s stomach. “I sure would miss you, but I could always come visit.” The thought of Marcus in New York with Ben is an unbelievably nice one, even now. “You still gonna show up empty handed tomorrow?”

Ben thinks about it. He really, really does. “They really all deserved it?” It shouldn’t be this easy to just agree to not tell anyone that Marcus is murdering people and butchering them like pigs. Ben’s having a little trouble thinking, though, with the feel of the guy he _really_ _likes_ pressing kisses against his neck and rolling their hips together, after said guy has killed a man for being homophobic towards him.

“Mhm,” Marcus smiles against Ben’s throat. “Cross my heart and hope to die, baby.”

“Well I don’t really want you to… die... “ Ben trails off, panting a bit as Marcus’s hand relocates from his neck to the crotch of his jeans. The steady press of the knife to his abdomen is not the turn off that it should be.

“Aw!” Ben can feel Marcus bite his lip, and knows he has that stupid, goofy little grin on his face. “I don’t really want you to die either, Ben. But I’ll still kill you if I have to.” He pulls his head back to grin fully in Ben’s face, throws the knife behind him, then dives in for a kiss.

There is dried blood on Marcus’s face, and as Ben opens his mouth under Marcus’s, he tries not to think too hard about that. The kiss is deep and hot, dirty in a way Ben isn’t used to, tongue and teeth sending a thrill down Ben’s spine. Marcus pulls back so his face is centimeters away from Ben’s, and when he licks his lips, Ben feels it.

Marcus drops to his knees in a moment, and it’s so unexpected that Ben would fall backwards if not for the door behind him. Marcus focuses hard as he begins undoing Ben’s pants, taking the lift of Ben’s hips from the door when he goes to pull them down for the consent that it is. He looks up at Ben and grins again, biting his lip, big and goofy in a way that is purely _Marcus_. There’s still blood on his face. Ben feels his cock jump at the sight, and chooses not to examine it too closely.

Marcus pulls Ben’s underwear down following his jeans, and then Ben’s dick is just there, out in the open of Marcus’s foyer, with a dead body several feet away. Ben keeps his eyes strictly on Marcus. He wraps a hand around Ben’s cock and licks a stripe up the underside, stopping to lap at the head with the flat of his tongue. He wraps his lips around the tip and sucks, gently at first then harder and harder till Ben bangs his head against the door and his hips jerk from the stimulation. Marcus giggles and starts working his head down while jerking the rest of Ben’s cock with his hand.

He tilts his head so Ben’s cockhead pushes visibly against his cheek, and grabs Ben’s hand from his side to place against the side of his face. Ben gasps, and with silent instruction from Marcus, rubs at his cock through Marcus’s cheek. He moves his hand to Marcus’s hair and pulls, to which Marcus moans appreciatively and sucks harder.

“ _God_ , Marcus,” Ben says, pulling harder at Marcus’s hair as the circle of the man’s lips gets tighter and hotter. His eyes stray from Marcus’s flushed face downward, to see that at some point he’s gotten his cock out and is desperately jerking himself off with the hand not on Ben’s cock. “ _Fuck_.”

Marcus pulls his head off of Ben’s cock and starts stroking him faster, momentarily stopping his own jerking off in order to focus on Ben, looking up at the tall man with wide eyes and an open mouth. When he says, “I want you to come on my face, darlin’,” Ben has no choice but to comply.

He pants through it, cock jerking more at the sight of his come on Marcus’s face, Marcus licking up what his tongue can reach and leaving the rest. Ben reaches down and pulls Marcus up, leaning down to bury his face in Marcus’s neck as he takes over jerking him off. It’s not long till Marcus comes, moaning Ben’s name and shaking through it. When he reaches down for Ben’s come covered hand and starts cleaning him up with his mouth, Ben looks at the blood on Marcus’s clothes and come on his face, thinks about the dead body of a man who committed a hate crime against him down the hall, and feels much better about it than he maybe should.

“Will you really visit me in New York?” He asks later, when they’re curled up in Marcus’s bed after Marcus had quickly cleared the house of any bodies or blood covered sheets while Ben went and visited the farm dog out back.

“Yeah, ‘course,” Marcus says, snuggling back further into Ben’s arms. “Hell, maybe I’ll just come up there to stay. Probably a lot of abusive freaks up there who could be taught a lesson or two.” The implication doesn’t escape Ben’s notice, obviously, and when it doesn’t cause any real unease or concern in him, he thinks maybe something is seriously wrong with him. But when Marcus looks up at him and grins before going in for a quick kiss, he thinks maybe he doesn’t really mind.

**Author's Note:**

> well there it is. i wrote this all one night which is unusual for me. the title/summary lyrics r from the song let it bleed by the used. new year new fandom same old emo fic titles. if you liked this you can find me on tumblr @ benkisselonlyfans. that's not my main. i'm not adding my main in case somehow travis morningstar the devil himself finds this and decides to stalk me. it is still far too easy to find my main tumblr blog from this ao3 account AND from that sideblog so if you really want it you can find it.
> 
> not locking this cuz i'm not a coward. if you're ben kissel or marcus parks or henry zebrowski or you know them personally and you've read this, please don't put me on blast on any streams but if you liked it let me know. if you're jackie zebrowski, i would like to give you a little kiss. thanks. bye.


End file.
